The Words of the Obliterated

I breathe in. The air around me heavy, settled over my shoulders, pulling on the strings of my heart in an attempt to untie the giant knot.

Coming undone.

I sit there on the curb of that parking lot, thinking.

Remembering.

Remembering when we were young and naive, our innocence shielding the demons that now consume us like jelly filled pastries. I recall our giggles, our shrieks of laughter, and smiles so beautiful that they could make all evils stop in their wake. 

Back when we used to believe we could be anything we wanted to be; a dinosaur, a ladybug, or royalty; before we realized that we didn’t even want to be ourselves. 

Back when we used to dream of flying, before we realized that if we tried to spread our wings we’d be shot down. 

Back when we devoted ourselves to forevers and wrapped ourselves in empty promises like freshly washed sheets. 

Back when we believed happily ever afters were the only way a story could end. 

The only way life could end.

Back when we drank fairytales and comforting lies to numb the pain of living. 

Back when we'd make believe and forget reality as to not concern ourselves in what we had endured and what we would encounter.

Back when we wanted to grow up, become old, before we truly knew how hard life would be. 

Back when we were everything. 

Now we’re nothing. 

Nothing but the words left behind by what was obliterated.